Hangover
by zerodawn22
Summary: Hermione wakes up to a curious bedfellow. Fleurmione.


Hermione groaned as she blearily woke up. She had a splitting headache and the light from her windows was blinding.

Between the regular thudding of her headache, Hermione felt a wave of nausea.

It had been a long time since she had been hungover.

Hermione ran her hand through her curls, wincing at the stale smell of wine and cigarettes that clung to her hair.

She shut her eyes against the blinding light and the pounding of her headache, thinking back to the previous night.

Ron and her had finally called it quits, their struggling relationship barely making it a year past the end of the war. They'd brought out the worst of each other, Hermione becoming an insufferable nag and Ron becoming even more insensitive and temperamental. It was for the best. But being for the best didn't mean it still didn't hurt.

Another wave of nausea hit Hermione, worse this time. She swallowed heavily, willing it to ease.

She had originally planned to sit down for a beer with Harry and Ginny, to take her mind off things. But then Luna had shown up, then Dean, Lavender, Neville… It had escalated quite quickly into a large night of drinking and partying.

Hermione opened her eyes again. The room was spinning and she raised an arm in front of her face. There was something written on her arm.

_'__If I am lost please return to Harry Potter'_

Hermione snorted.

There was a gentle moaning beside her in response, causing Hermione to jolt upright in bed.

She took in her surroundings, noticing that she was not in fact alone in her bed. There was someone lying next to her, obscured by the clean white linen sheets bundled over them.

She racked her brain, trying to recall the latter part of her night. It wasn't like her to have a one-night stand. She _never_ had one night stands.

Hermione reached out a cautious hand, clasping the sheet and pulling it back suddenly.

"Uhnnnn, non, non, non, it is too bright in here," a light French voice protested.

Hermione felt her stomach clench violently as she took in the visage of one Fleur Delacour in her bed.

Fleur was in her underwear, her platinum blonde hair tumbling over her toned body. Hermione felt the heat of a blush burn her cheeks as she processed just how skimpy the lingerie Fleur was wearing was.

How on _Earth_ did she end up with Fleur in her bed? With Fleur in _lingerie_ in her bed?!

More alarmingly, she was feeling a pang of arousal at the situation.

_'__This cannot be happening…'_ Hermione thought to herself, _'I'm straight… Aren't I?'_

Her body was begging to differ. She couldn't even keep her eyes from roaming Fleur's barely clad body. She wasn't sure she had ever felt like this when looking at Ron in his underwear.

Maybe it was just Fleur. Maybe everyone felt like this around her. She was unnaturally beautiful.

"What are you doing here…?" Hermione finally croaked out. Her mouth was dry.

"You invited me here," Fleur replied simply. She sat up in bed and began preening, combing out her silky hair with her hands.

"I… I did…? That doesn't sound like me," Hermione responded. Her head was spinning from more than the hangover now.

Fleur smirked slyly.

"You said a few things last night that didn't sound like you," Fleur replied, beginning to stretch.

Hermione was transfixed as Fleur's toned body stretched in front of her.

"We didn't… Did we…?" Hermione asked, her voice cracking. She wasn't sure what she wanted the answer to be.

Fleur looked at her, her vibrant azure eyes locking with Hermione's brown-amber ones.

"We didn't sleep together if that is what you are asking," Fleur responded, her smile growing.

Hermione felt a drop in her stomach. Disappointment.

"What did happen last night?" Hermione asked.

"I ran into you and Harry and the others last night," Fleur replied, leaning back against the pillows, "You were very amusing. Usually you seem a little cold with me but you seemed eager to talk."

Hazy memories were coming back to Hermione now.

"We shared a number of wines and then you asked me back here," Fleur continued.

Hermione recalled pulling Fleur to sit in her lap and her disbelief when the blonde's hand tangled into her curls. She asked Fleur about her divorce and told her about her breakup with Ron. Fleur had smiled flirtatiously and nuzzled into her neck.

"Then we kissed," Fleur continued.

Hermione remembered now. Throwing Fleur down on her bed and clambering up her. Wandering hands and fervent kisses. Undressing the blonde and kissing her collarbone and toned stomach.

"But we were too drunk for anything else to happen," Fleur explained, "So we just ended up cuddling and falling asleep. You were very sweet."

"Oh," Hermione said, her voice sounding distant to herself.

Her mind was working overtime to process this wild new information. Fleur and her…

She couldn't deny that the more she thought about it, the more memories came back to her, the more she _liked_ it.

Hermione came back to her senses as she realised Fleur was up and out of bed, pulling a dress over her head.

"I've got to go," Fleur said, straightening her dress out before putting on her heels, "See you around, Hermione."

Hermione managed to smile weakly at the blonde. Then Fleur was gone and out the door.

Hermione threw herself back against her pillows, her hangover now firmly forgotten.


End file.
